


The Soft Touch

by xspike4evax



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 16:13:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8020537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xspike4evax/pseuds/xspike4evax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Willow has no idea what Spike see's in her, and then he tells her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Soft Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: Blush, moonlight & innocence from bad_swa prompt table over on LJ

Lounging against the door frame, feet crossed at the ankles and arms folded over his chest, Spike watched her with unconcealed interest and curiosity. She’d been sitting in front of the mirror for ages, just staring at her reflection. Sometimes she frowned. Sometimes she titled her head to the left and then to the right. Sometimes her nose wrinkled, the way it did when she was confused. 

She let out a sudden sigh and made an impatient gesture. “Oh I don’t know what it is. He’s probably just mad.” 

Spike’s curiosity ricocheted up a few notches. 

She twisted on her little stool, swinging her legs from beneath the vanity table until she was sitting sideways. He knew the second she clocked him by the way her heart slammed in her chest and she gave a little scream. 

“Spike!” Willow’s hand went to her chest and she took a deep breath. “Must you sneak around?” 

He grinned, delighting in the hammering of her heart. “Wasn’t sneakin’, pet. Just come up to see ya, but you were busy.” He gave the mirror a pointed look. 

Taking another steadying breath, Willow got to her feet, feeling the flush enter her cheeks at being caught. “How long were you standing there?” 

He shrugged. “Not long. Long enough.” 

“Has everyone gone? They were going to get pizza.” 

“Slayer’s downstairs, but I can keep quiet if you got something in mind?” He gave her a wicked look, his tongue sliding along the inside of his lower lip when her heart began to pick up the pace again. 

An indulgent smile crossed her lips and she shook her head. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” 

“You’re one to talk.” A slow smile spread over his face. “I remember only two nights ago I was out patrolling, just mindin’ my own business, when I was accosted by a little witch an’ ravished within an inch of my life.”

“Not within an inch of your life,” Willow insisted. “You’re already dead.” 

Spike laughed. “Alright, ravished good an’ proper then.” 

She rolled her eyes. “And you put up such a fight, didn’t you.” 

He laughed softly. “What were you doin’ when I came in?”

“Oh.” Her lashes swept down to veil her eyes. “It’s not important.” 

“Maybe not, but I’d still like to know.” 

She let out a huff, she knew Spike wouldn’t let up until his curiosity was satisfied and somehow Spike always knew when she was lying. He never said what gave her away, but he always knew. “If you must know, I was trying to see through your eyes.” The wary look he gave her made her scowl. “Not with magic! Just objectively.” 

“What were you tryin’ to see?” 

“What you see.” 

Spike rubbed at his forehead. “We could spend the rest of the night ‘aving this conversation. What were you doin’, pet? What were you lookin’ for?” 

“For what you see when you look at me. I’m not pretty. I’m too pale, and I have freckles,” she said crossly, letting him know just how she felt about her freckles with a dramatic finger pointing to her nose. “I’m hardly Drusilla or Harmony, am I?” 

“No,” he agreed softly. “You’re so much more. There’s a beauty beyond the senses, Willow; the sort of beauty that's in the setting sun an’ the first pink of dawn. The same beauty that's found in moonlight on the water is found in you. It comes from your soul and the innocence of your spirit. That’s what I see when I look at you.” 

A blush filled her cheeks and Willow let out a breath, her eyes wide. His words touched her softly, gently, soothing a lifetime of hurt and inadequacy. 

“You might not be pretty, but you are exquisite.” 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Maybe.... maybe we can stay in tonight. Just you and me. At your crypt.” 

“Hum.” He caressed the back of her neck lightly. “I’ll never see you in the sunlight. But I know how the moonlight takes your hair a shade darker and I know how your skin looks bathed in candle light.” He kissed her softly, deeply. “Now I know what the darkness is really for; it was made for loving you.”


End file.
